


What the Morrow Will Bring

by Eressë (eresse21)



Series: Greenleaf and Imladris [20]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:56:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eresse21/pseuds/Eress%C3%AB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Third Age draws to an end, the twins and Legolas ponder their futures in a Middle-earth that has passed into the dominion of Men. Twentieth story in a series chronicling the millennia-spanning relationship of Legolas and Elrohir from the moment they meet beneath the eaves of Greenwood the Great to the years of the War of the Ring and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Morrow Will Bring

**Author's Note:**

> _The characters belong to the wizard of storytelling himself, JRR Tolkien and/or his estate. No offence is intended or profit made in my use of them._  
> 
> This is the last of the stories set during the events in LotR and the Third Age.

Eryn Lasgalen, _laer_ T.A. 3020  
Morning dawned bright and golden on the High Pass in the Misty Mountains, the main passageway over the towering peaks to the lands east of the range. Following the route, a party of five travellers on horseback slowly made its way. Cloaked in grey, their heads hooded, they might have been mistaken for ordinary Men but for the slenderness of three and the exceptional grace with which they bore themselves even upon their steeds and the surprising smallness of the other two. As the morning lengthened and the sun grew warmer, they pulled back their hoods, revealing the features that marked them as altogether nonhuman. They were Elves from the hidden vale of Rivendell. Plus two adventurous Hobbits. 

The brethren Elladan and Elrohir had received word the previous winter that their long-time friend Legolas had finally returned to his father’s kingdom after a lengthy sojourn with his Dwarf comrade Gimli son of Glóin. The two had originally planned to take a short cut to their own lands through Fangorn Forest but in the way of many an intended shortcut, they’d ended up traveling even further than expected. Gimli had not approved at all; Legolas’s letter contained a jocular account of the Dwarf’s incessant complaints about being stuck with an Elf belatedly stricken with wanderlust. 

With his time of abiding in Middle-earth drawing ever closer to an end, Elrond had decided to accompany his sons to the Woodland Realm for possibly the last time. The presence of the Halflings, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, was due to the former’s new interest in elven history. Merry had gone to Rivendell with the intention of doing research and Pippin, as was his wont, had kept him company.

But when they got wind of the planned trip to the great forest now known as Eryn Lasgalen, they’d begged to come along. They’d heard something of their Wood-elven friend’s home and wished to visit it. Elrond could think of no reason to refuse them.

Now seasoned travellers, the two Hobbits had no trouble at all keeping up with their Elven companions. If anything, their excitement as the party descended the eastern face of the mountains increased and continued to do so as they neared the border of the great forest.

They followed the elven path as of yore, thirty leagues through thick but no longer unwholesome growth. The forest had been cleansed after the defeat of Sauron’s minions in the north. Evidence of the battles that had taken place beneath the ancient eaves showed in deeply scarred trunks, scorched not yet re-grown brush and the unsightly stumps of felled trees. But despite the injury done to the forest, there was no longer the lingering sense of evil and pestilence that had once blackened its name. It was largely restored to the Greenwood the twins had first known all of close to three thousand years ago.

The Hobbits, busy with a thousand and one questions regarding their destination, nearly passed the sudden turn into the hidden path. Their exuberance, slightly dampened by the near miss, rose once more as they followed the trail. Finally, after another thirty leagues, they came to the tunnel formed of living trees. 

Between one blink of the eye and the next, they were surrounded by Elven archers all clad in green and brown not unlike Legolas’s raiment. The Hobbits looked up at the sound of a slight rustle and gasped. Perched easily in the branches of the great trees were more archers. 

Merry and Pippin looked around them fearfully. Then they realized something with a jolt. Though the archers held their bows ready, none had made a move to threaten them.

From behind the first two trees forming the tunnel, two sentries suddenly emerged. Merry stared at them, wondering how he could have failed to see them. The sentries approached and bowed reverently before Elrond and his sons before speaking. 

“My lords, his Highness will be very pleased. He has been awaiting your arrival most eagerly.”

The three Elf-lords smiled their acknowledgement. The sentry stepped back. Elrohir motioned to the Hobbits to take the lead. The Hobbits’ ponies, however, shied at entering the dark beneath the trees. One sentry quickly reached out his hands to them. 

Stroking the ponies, he said soothingly to the frightened beasts, “Do not be afraid. We shall soon be in the sun once more.” 

The ponies calmed down at once much to the Hobbits’ relief and followed the sentry into the shadows of the tree-wrought tunnel. Soon they emerged into bright sunlight and the vast clearing and rushing stream lay before them. As did the delved royal halls and the bridge before it, a small group of Elves... and a most familiar figure.

Merry and Pippin gave a cry of recognition and, unmindful of protocol, leaped down from their ponies to fly into Legolas’s arms. The archer laughed as he found himself with two armfuls of joyful Hobbits.

“Well met, my friends,” he said. “This is a surprise. The twins did not inform me that you would be coming with them.”

“‘Twas a sudden decision,” Elladan explained as he replaced the Hobbits in his friend’s welcoming hug. “They badgered _Adar_ from dawn till dusk for nearly a sennight. How could he deny them?”

Legolas chuckled. Yes, that did sound like what these two would do. He turned to Elrohir. At first sight of the younger twin, his blue eyes turned markedly warmer.

“I have missed you, _meldiren _”—my friend—he murmured as he caught the warrior in a hearty embrace. “‘Tis good to see you again.”__

Elrohir regarded him with mingled affection and amusement. “I would have thought you too busy to miss anybody what with your extended wanderings. Surely Gimli kept you entertained.”

Legolas snickered. “Aye, and oft unwittingly at that.”

“I heard that!”

Another familiar figure came into sight. A moment later, he disappeared beneath two obviously overjoyed Hobbits.

“Hey there!” Gimli bellowed. “Have a care, you little rascals! I did not live through the war just to be smothered by two over enthusiastic Halflings!”

“Pardon us, Master Gimli,” Merry laughed. “We are only so happy to see you again.”

“Hmmph. You’d think we had not seen each other in a century rather than a year,” Gimli growled. But the Dwarf’s eyes twinkled with pleasure just the same.

Legolas drew back the Hobbits’ attention, his arm still firmly wrapped around Elrohir’s waist. “Come, you two must meet my father, brothers and sister.” He gestured behind them.

Merry and Pippin spun around to behold a majestic Elf welcoming Elrond. Thranduil, Elvenking of the Woodland Realm, always cut a resplendent figure even when he tried not to. He and Elrond, side by side, made quite a striking picture, especially with their contrasting golden and midnight tresses. 

The Hobbits goggled as Legolas presented them to his father. They just managed to make the proper replies to Thranduil’s kind greeting, barely registering the two handsome Elves called Melthoron and Brethildor or the beauteous Elf-maid named Nimeithel. 

Merry and Pippin bore expressions of shock and chagrin. They glared at Legolas almost accusingly. 

“This is so embarrassing!” Merry exclaimed. “In all our journeying together you never bothered to tell us that you are a prince!”

“I did not think it was important,” Legolas smiled, his eyes bright with merriment.

“And here I thought you a trifle over-pompous during Strider’s wedding wearing that circlet-thing on your head!” Pippin laughed. “A pair of proper dimwits, that’s what we are, Merry.”

“I will not contest that,” Legolas grinned. “Particularly since Frodo and Sam knew.”

The Hobbits groaned. Sam would never let them hear the last of this if he ever learned of their ignorance.

A moment later, they were treated to another shock. Hardly had Elladan paid his respects to Thranduil and his older sons when he swept Nimeithel into his arms and kissed her with such ardor that it reduced the Halflings and Gimli to gaping, wide-eyed wonder.

Not that Nimeithel was any less discomposed. Catching the alarmingly raised eyebrows of her sire and Elrond’s resigned roll of his eyes, she blushed deeply and hastened to check her lover’s much too forward behavior.

“Please, _Eledhiren_ , a little propriety is demanded,” she murmured.

Elladan’s resulting scowl disconcerted her further.

“Propriety? Since when have you turned so modest?” he demanded.

“Only in their presence,” she amended.

“Hmm, that will be difficult to do considering what I look forward to knowing once more,” he wickedly purred. “The rich honey of your mouth, the pillow softness of your bosom, the sweet cleft between your—”

“Hush!” Nimeithel felt her cheeks burn at this increasingly graphic enumeration of her charms. Charms Elladan had tasted many a time and with never abating relish. “You are wicked to speak of such things here!” She managed to calm her suddenly racing heart. “Later, when – when we are alone....”

Elladan’s near blazing gaze promised her a most fearsome reckoning.

oOoOoOo

The evening meal was an altogether merry one in its informality and exclusivity. There was much to catch up on and every tale was duly recounted and avidly listened to. Even acid-tongued Melthoron managed to temper his acerbity enough to be considered pleasant company. And had the passage of time sharpened Brethildor’s mind? He actually managed to engage the brethren in rapt conversation and for the formerly slow-witted warrior prince that was a feat indeed.

One person, however, had to struggle to keep her composure as the meal progressed. Nimeithel strove to maintain a decorous manner but the effort was rendered almost futile when a pair of slate blue eyes kept alighting on her with rapacious intent. 

Elladan looked fit to eat her alive each time he so much as glanced in her direction and Nimeithel nervously acknowledged that had they been alone, he would have done just that. She did not mind his lustful regard in the least but it simply would not do to behave like a wanton in front of her family. They’d already flouted the rules of decorum when they’d greeted each other with more than seemly affection. Best not to push the boundaries of tolerance too far. After all, none knew of her trysts with the Elf-lord and she preferred it remained that way if only to avoid unpleasant confrontations with her over-protective father and brothers. And so she smiled demurely, turned her attention to the others and cast her eyes down prudently now and anon lest her lover’s gaze rattle her more than it already had. Elladan smiled grimly and played along, adroitly joining in the discussions all the way to the end of the meal. 

Afterwards, she begged leave to return to her quarters whilst the males continued with their various discussions. Elladan rose as she passed him by and with a seemingly gallant smile, took her hand and pressed a courtly kiss to it. But a rakish flick of the tip of his tongue virtually seared her flesh and left her near gasping. She colored then and looked up swiftly to see if the others had noticed but all were too busy talking to pay much attention to so fleeting a gesture. That is save for Elrohir.

The Elf-knight knew his brother all too well and had anticipated just such an action. He grinned now at the flustered Elf-princess, the smile imbued with equal parts sympathy and mischief. Nimeithel groaned inwardly. She would not be able to count on Elrohir to keep his twin in line.

She did not go at once to her chamber but lingered for a spell in the garden where she attempted to attain a modicum of calm. Only when her pulse slowed down to near normal did she make her way to her rooms.

But as soon as she stepped into her chamber she was bodily thrust against the near wall whilst Elladan slammed the door shut with an impatient kick. Before she could speak or even think for that matter, she found her lips under sensual assault as the Elf-lord made good his silent threat earlier in the day. She moaned as his pillaging mouth left scarlet marks upon her throat and shoulders, gasped as her skirts were hauled up to bare her to her waist and cried out as he lifted her and took her hard right there against the wall.

She hung on in dazed rapture, her slender legs wrapped around his waist, nearly keening with every thrust into her body. In all the times they’d coupled, he’d never been less than gentle. But this was fast, fierce and earthshakingly fervent. _Elbereth!_ This was... bliss! Culmination left her limp and sated and she all but collapsed into his arms.

It took her several minutes to recover after so explosive an encounter. Elladan was not above taking advantage of her post-coupling languor to bear her to the bed and divest her and himself of every stitch of clothing. She hissed as he drew her flush against his formidable form, feeling the evidence of his still rampant desire for her against her belly.

“I cannot believe you did that,” she murmured a little breathlessly.

‘What did you expect?” he chided mildly. “You’ve been teasing me to distraction since we arrived.”

“I was not teasing you,” she protested half-heartedly. “Decorum—”

“Decorum be hanged,” he growled. “You are fortunate I hold your father in such high esteem. Otherwise...”

A thrill snuck up her spine. “Otherwise...?”

Elladan leaned closer, his lips a mere inch from hers. “Otherwise, he would have learned a whole new meaning to the word ‘feast’.”

Nimeithel’s eyes widened with mingled elation and horror at the image that conjured.

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“Care to find out?” he challenged, a salacious tongue swipe against her lips all but undoing her. He smirked as her cheeks turned scarlet and her breathing quickened once more. “I thought not.”

Whereupon he proceeded to rediscover her body more thoroughly leaving her adrift in the happy wreckage of her scattered wits. 

A few days later, it was Elladan who had his wits scattered.

The fifth morning after their arrival, the twins challenged Legolas to an archery match. While awaiting his brother, Elrohir passed the time talking with the prince and Gimli in the main hall of the delved palace. The conversation soon turned to the Elf-prince and Dwarf’s plans for the future. 

“We promised Aragorn that we would return to Gondor and help in the rebuilding of the kingdom,” Legolas explained. “With father’s permission, I hope to bring some of our people south and settle in Ithilien.”

“And I desire to return to Aglarond,” Gimli added. “After we have repaired the gates of Minas Tirith, of course.”

“We?” Elrohir inquired.

Gimli affirmed: “I will bring many of my kin south. There is much to keep a Dwarf busy down there.”

Elrohir nodded then commented to the prince: “You said you would return to Gondor to help Estel. Yet in the same breath you spoke of settling in Ithilien. Does this mean you will no longer call Greenwood home?”

Legolas looked about him with a sentimental air. “I will still come back for visits but, aye, Ithilien may well become my new abode.” He regarded the warrior curiously. “And you? What will happen to Imladris after your father leaves?”

“It will be as it always has been,” Elrohir replied. “Elladan and I have no intention of changing what our father wrought.”

Gimli nodded. “Does this mark the end of journeying for you then?”

Elrohir paused a moment then shook his head. “For Elladan mayhap but not for me.” He looked at Legolas. “You are not the only ones who desire to help Gondor. I will offer my services to Estel in whatever capacity he may need me. Soldier, counsellor or brother – it will not matter.”

“Then we shall still see each other often enough,” Legolas smiled.

Elrohir’s eyes glittered. “Often but not nearly enough,” he softly replied. “I will still need to attend to my duties in Imladris. A half-year is all I may have in Gondor each time I travel south.”

“Yet Ithilien is but a two-day gallop from Minas Tirith,” Legolas reminded him. “Why should we not be able to meet frequently?”

“‘Tis not mere distance alone that has kept us apart in years past,” Elrohir pointed out. “Duty and circumstances can be as divisive. And with Gondor still licking its wounds, we can expect less time for personal desires.” 

Legolas frowned. “I cannot deny that,” he conceded. “All the more will we need to strive to ensure that we come together as often as possible.”

He did not see the flicker of speculative amusement in Gimli’s eyes at his unwitting double entendre. But Elrohir did and he smiled wryly at the observant Dwarf.

“I will do my best, Calenlass,” he said, his argent eyes gleaming. 

Gimli hid a smirk behind his beard.

At that moment, Elladan arrived with the Hobbits in tow. The three Elves headed for the archery yard whilst Gimli happily joined Merry and Pippin for a hearty afternoon repast.

While the royal kitchens soon rang with the jolly songs of two satisfied Hobbits and one stuffed Dwarf, the archery yard resounded with the applause of numerous spectators as three of the comeliest Elves to walk Arda engaged in friendly competition. 

Neither of the twins thought they could best the woodland prince in this sport. As Elrohir had foretold long afore, Legolas had become the most renowned archer in all Elfdom. There were precious few now who could match his skill with the bow, much less better it. 

The twins were counted among these few but they were not sanguine that they could always keep up with their friend. If they challenged the prince it was because so peerless an opponent was what the two warriors sought in the never-ending task of honing their weapons skills. 

After the bout, the three walked back to the pavilion for the evening meal. As they made their way down down the tree-lined path, Elladan noted how frequently Legolas would place a hand on Elrohir’s arm or shoulder, even snaking his arm around the younger twin’s waist here and then. It was almost a habit with him, this tendency to touch or hold the Elf-knight.

 _By Elbereth, does he not realize how telling his actions are?_ Elladan pondered anew the prince’s egregious unawareness – or was it denial? – of his patently un-platonic demeanor with Elrohir. Whether he accepted it or not, it was blatantly apparent that Legolas nursed a strong physical attraction to the Elf-knight at the very least. 

Elladan mentally shook his head. It was all he could do not to openly decry his friend’s continued blindness to what had already become apparent to others who took the time to observe Elrohir’s manner with him. Did Legolas not even wonder at the reason behind Elrohir’s decision to offer his services to Estel? 

Elladan had been caught entirely by surprise when his brother informed him of it during the archery match. Surprised by the suddenness of it but not the motive behind it. For how else could his brother remain in reasonable touch with his binding-mate? His deplorably incognizant binding-mate, the older twin thought with a touch of exasperation. 

He watched as Legolas unthinkingly slipped his arm around Elrohir’s waist when they entered the royal dining chamber. He caught his brother’s eye.

Elrohir’s answering smile was muted but conveyed a world of feeling to his twin. Elladan thought to himself that if and when his brother finally made his move, Legolas would feel the storm-force of it before he ever saw it coming. Elladan stifled a treacherous snicker. He had to admit, it was this image of a wide-eyed, gaping-mouthed, utterly dumbstruck archer that kept his occasional annoyance with said archer from boiling over. 

Dinner commenced as always with little formality and much conversation. Elladan had just lifted his drinking cup to his lips when Thranduil addressed him.

“And just what are your intentions regarding my daughter, Elladan?” he questioned severely.

The older twin nearly choked on his wine. He gasped and stared at the king in shock. Across the table, Nimeithel dropped her fork with a clatter, her face flooding with color at her father’s unexpected utterance. Around the table, silence descended upon the proceedings as the others awaited the outcome of this sudden inquiry.

Elladan hastily pulled himself together. “My intentions have never been less than honorable,” he said, darting a glance at Elrond. 

To his dismay, Elrond looked as stern as Thranduil. Surely his own sire did not doubt him? 

“Yet I have yet to hear of them though you have already dealt with the reason for which you delayed stating them so long,” Thranduil pointed out. “Understand this, Elladan, I bear you no ill-will but neither can I allow anyone to trifle with my daughter’s feelings.”

“ _Ada!_ ” 

“I do not!”

“Hush, _iell_. Do not what, Elladan?”

“I have never trifled with Nimeithel’s feelings,” Elladan said somewhat heatedly. “I love her and if she will have me, I would take her as wife!”

Nimeithel’s gasp resounded through the silent chamber.

“Is that a proposal?” she half sputtered in her shock.

Elladan stared at her then looked back at the King. What in Arda—? Thranduil was grinning! And so was Elrond! 

He glared at them, comprehending how neatly they had tricked him into declaring himself. He became aware of Nimeithel’s continued disbelieving gaze. A perverse need to get back at their wily sires surged into reckless being.

“Aye, it is,” he conceded, rising from his place. He walked around to the speechless princess. He pulled her to her feet, casting a challenging glower at his father and hers. “And I will not take nay for an answer.”

Nimeithel needed several seconds to recover herself. When she finally did, the significance of Elladan’s words registered on her. With a soft cry, she flung her arms around him and began to half-weep and half-laugh against his shoulder.

“I take it that means yes?” he grinned.

Still unable to say a word, she vigorously nodded. With that, Elladan sealed his lips to hers. And pried hers apart. And suckled them. And swept past them to plunder the sweetness within. By the time, he released her she was rosy with sheer pleasure and outraged modesty and yet another bout of silence had blanketed the company. 

The Hobbits and Gimli were even more thunderstruck than they’d been when they’d witnessed their passionate reunion. Melthoron and Brethildor and the latter’s wife seemed to suddenly find their drinking cups inordinately fascinating. And Elrohir and Legolas were manfully holding back what looked to be the beginnings of a raucous spate of mirth. But as for Elrond and Thranduil...

Elrond simply bowed his head and raised a hand to his temple, the picture of unsurprised acceptance of the inevitable. Thranduil, however, was no longer amused and indeed looked about ready to unsheathe his sword and pounce upon his future son-by-law. Satisfied with his handiwork, Elladan promptly drew his new betrothed into another kiss.

Elrohir got him out of the dining chamber before the Elvenking threw diplomacy and restraint to the four winds and did him bodily harm.

oOoOoOo

The day after Elladan’s unconventional marriage proposal, Elrond and Thranduil found themselves sauntering along the path behind the royal stables, headed for one of the tributary streams of the Forest River. They spoke reminiscently of the days when their children were young and untouched by the vicissitudes of life. And still innocents in every sense of the word.

As they neared the stream they heard the sounds of glee and laughter. Soon they came upon the source of merriment. 

The twins and Legolas had invited the Hobbits and Gimli for a swim. Gimli had declined and was stretched out beneath a tall elm, snoring the morning away. But Merry and Pippin had accepted with alacrity and even now frolicked in the water with enviable abandon. Their horseplay drew cheers and hoots from their Elven companions. 

Thranduil and Elrond came to a stop to watch the scene before them unfold, their earlier conversation forgotten. The two Elvenlords observed their sons thoughtfully.

“So, we are to be more than allies, Elrond,” Thranduil remarked. “We are to be kin.”

“I count it an honor, Thranduil,” Elrond said.

The king smiled. “As do I. Though I must say I never imagined it would come to this. Ithilwen would have been pleased.”

Elrond smiled as well. “We are both blessed in this. Indeed, ‘tis a joy for me to witness the happy unions of two of my children. If only...” He sighed, suddenly melancholic. His eyes drifted to his younger son. “I will not be here to see him come to his desire,” he said wistfully. 

Thranduil regarded the younger twin as well. “Aye, it will not be answered so soon. Legolas can be, to put it mildly, willful when he decides on something. ‘Tis a difficult road Elrohir has chosen to follow. My heart goes out to him.”

Elrond glanced at the Elvenking. The usually icy blue eyes looked back, warm and compassionate. 

“So you have discerned who holds Elrohir’s heart,” he murmured. “And would you object should he win Legolas’s love?”

Thranduil shook his head. “Your sons are as dear to me as my own,” he replied. “To have both of them as kin – ‘tis twice the blessing for me.”

“But your people? Would they object?”

“Some may should this happen in the immediate future. But they cannot stop the tide of change in our realm; particularly change that merely entails accepting what we have always been. Even now I hear that bindings take place in this kingdom though always in secret. Old habits die hard but sooner or late my people will return to the ancient path. More likely sooner.”

He looked at Elrond musingly. “I never aggressively abetted my people’s divergence from the path as my father did.”

“But you did not stop it either.”

“Nay, I did not. I understood the need for it. I doubt this kingdom of mine would have survived the ages otherwise.”

“But now?”

“The return is inevitable. Once reawakened, there can be no stopping what is after all inherent in all of us.” He pursed his lips ruefully. “But as to the heartache and suffering our repression of the ancient ways caused—” Thranduil sighed. “I have no answer to that. I only did what I thought best for my people.”

“They love and revere you,” Elrond smiled soothingly. “That is more than ample evidence that you have been the king they needed. Do not dwell on what you believe to have been your errors but learn well from them instead.”

“Spoken like a true loremaster,” Thranduil chuckled softly. 

He glanced at Elrohir once more. The Elf-knight was surreptitiously regarding Legolas with more than ordinary warmth. His oft-stern eyes softened as he observed the younger twin. 

“I have never said this to you, Elrond, but methinks ‘tis time I did,” he commented. “When I first learned of Nimeithel’s love for Elladan, I was ready to accept him as my law-son should he choose my daughter as wife. Now I can say I will be more than proud to have you as my kinsman through their espousal. But I also hope and pray that there will yet be another link between our houses that will strengthen our ties even further.”

Elrond’s eyes flashed with pleasure and gratitude. “Then we are in accord over this matter,” he said. He nodded in Elrohir’s direction. “Your words hearten me, Thranduil. I feel less burdened knowing that you approve of his love. The Valar willing, mayhap he will win it before long.”

“Aye, that he may, the Valar willing,” Thranduil agreed.

oOoOoOo

After a month’s stay, Merry and Pippin informed their hosts that it was time for them to return home. Their services were needed in the Shire, which was recovering quite spectacularly from Saruman’s brief incursion.

On the eve of their departure, Gimli surprised everyone by announcing that he would accompany them. That it was no whimsical pronouncement was proven when he showed up the following morning, all ready to go.

“Take care, my friends,” Legolas said to the Hobbits as they gathered by the stone bridge before the great doors of the cave. “The Dark Lord may be no more but orcs still spawn in the deeps of the mountains.” 

“They will be safe,” Gimli assured him. “I shall see to that.”

“Then you are determined to travel with them?” Thranduil asked.

“Aye. I find I yearn for some adventure.”

Pippin chuckled and added, “Not to mention the beer at The Golden Perch in Stock. The best beer in the East Farthing!” 

Legolas and the twins laughed while Thranduil and Elrond stared at the Dwarf in disbelief. 

“You would travel miles out of your way just for beer?” Elrond said.

Gimli turned a dark red. 

“Farewell, then,” Elladan smiled. 

“For now,” Merry grinned.

After a bit of a tussle getting Gimli up behind Pippin on the latter’s sturdy pony, the three called out their last goodbyes and rode away over the bridge. Legolas sighed as they disappeared from sight.

He turned to Elrohir and said, “I am glad you agreed to stay on until autumn.”

Elrohir smiled. “When have I ever refused you, Calenlass?”

“You, Elrohir? I cannot recall a single moment,” Legolas said with some amazement. “You spoil me, _gwador_. I am not complaining in the least, but I will admit to awe that you should treat me so generously. More than ever, I look forward to seeing you in Gondor.”

Elrohir fell silent as he seemed to contemplate some matter of great import. His manner disconcerted Legolas, so used was he to his friend’s enthusiasm in anything that afforded them the chance to be together. He’d expected an immediate and overt response from him.

“You do not seem all that... eager,” he murmured, sounding rather put out. 

“But I am,” Elrohir demurred.

Legolas looked entreatingly at him. “It means much to me that you shall be close by even if only for a half-year at a time,” he said. “I hope you feel as I do, Elrohir.”

The twilight eyes gleamed. A warm smile curled the younger twin’s lips. The archer felt his unease seep away under the familiar tender regard. 

“More than you know, Legolas,” the Elf-knight softly said. “So much more.”

oOoOoOo

And so it came to pass.

Gimli brought south a part of the Dwarf-folk of Erebor, and he became Lord of the Glittering Caves. He and his people did great works in Gondor and Rohan. For Minas Tirith they forged gates of mithril and steel to replace those broken by the Witch-king. Legolas also brought south Elves out of Greenwood, and they dwelt in Ithilien, and it became once again the fairest country in all the westlands. (0)

*********************************  
Glossary:  
laer – Sindarin for summer  
Adar – Father  
Eledhiren – my Elvenlord  
iell – daughter  
gwador – sworn brother

(0) Abridged passage from LoTR: _Return of the King_ , Appendix A, Chapter III: Durin’s Folk.

_End of Part XX._

**Author's Note:**

> _Part XXI: Calenlass: Heart of a Prince – A steadfast warrior decides he’s had his fill of waiting and sets out to capture his beloved prince’s reluctant heart._


End file.
